


beers at 10, hand holding at 10:30

by horridbeeboy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Server Swap, St Patricks Day, There's no plot, hand holding, im a simple man, im love them okay, its soft okay, look sometimes you just need an excuse to drink in the morning, short fic, they just hold hands and drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29455530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horridbeeboy/pseuds/horridbeeboy
Summary: cas learns about st Patricks day (a very loose summary but I dont know how to describe things ahusihdjasi)~a short fic for a sever swap im a part of. So, to my swap partner @Kittimau I hope you enjoy (go check out their stuff on here- they're a super good writer!)>>> https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittimauyes its valentines day. yes im posting a story not about valentines day/the deancas wedding get off my back alright im just crazy like that 🤪
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion





	beers at 10, hand holding at 10:30

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittimau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittimau/gifts).



“Dean…”

“Yeah?”

Cas gestured to the beer that had just been placed in front of him. “It’s 10am.”  
Dean didn’t respond at first, instead opting to focus on sliding down into the chair across from Cas. They often sat like this, on either side of the head of the table, like civilized gentlemen from period pieces who had nothing more to discuss than the taste of their drinks and whatever tale of rumour that had swept their quaint town that month. Cas didn’t mind, and while he always enjoyed when Dean sat directly next to him, so close that he could feel the table shake as Dean unconsciously bounced his leg, this arrangement had its benefits.

It meant he could look at Dean, at all of Dean. From the way he crossed his ankles on the table to the way his head lolled back onto the chair, a smirk finding its way onto his face. 

“It’s a special day.” He said, taking a sip of his beer with an all too natural wink in Cas’ direction.

“It’s a wednesday morning in the middle of march.”

“God, you always this much of a cynic?”

“Well, I have had to deal with your antics for well over a decade now,” Cas said leaning back to mirror Dean, “It was bound to happen some time.” 

“Oh and that’s a valid excuse?”

“Yes.” 

Dean chuckled at that and they fell into a comfortable silence, Dean reaching his hand out across the table, pretending he was just resting it there. Cas knew Dean would take some more time to be comfortable and confident with physical affection, but even the fact that Dean let him hold his hand without scold was enough to make him bubble with pride. He ran his thumb across Dean’s knuckles, easily catching the new warmth in Dean’s face. He racked his millenia old brain for what could possibly be special about today. Special and allow for drinking before lunch time. “It’s not someone's birthday is it?” Cas asked, glancing to Dean to watch as he manually churned cogs in his head. 

“Not that I can think of.” 

Cas thought for a moment more. “Isn’t Sam’s birthday in an M month?”

Cas felt Dean freeze under his hand. If the effort to think had been obvious before now it was like a Tony Stark style projection. Cas could see right into Dean’s panic at trying to remember his brother's birthday. Despite his increasingly prolonged silence Cas was sure Dean knew when Sam’s birthday was…. right?

“Dean.”

“Mm?”

“Have you forgotten when Sam’s birthday is?”

“What? No. I just- I’m thinking.” 

“I can see that.” Cas said, fully turning to face Dean, “What’s so special about today then?”

“Huh?” Was all Dean managed through his worry. He met Cas’ eyes and snapped back from his brain's manic search for where it kept the date of Sam’s birthday, “Oh. Oh! Right, cause- alcohol- why the- in the morning and all that jazz. Um well, today is Saint Patrick’s day, which traditionally means drinking as much as your heart desires.” 

“.... All that jazz?”

“It’s an expression alright, don’t bag it til you try it.” 

“Dean, do you know who Saint Patrick was?”

“Wasn’t he the dude who drove all the snakes out of Ireland?” Dean made a wiggly hand movement which quickly translated into the rest of his body. Cas tried not to laugh at him. Saint Patrick was actually a 5th-century missionary who became a Bishop. He was credited with bringing Christianity to parts of Ireland and was probably partly responsible for the Christianization of the Picts and Anglo-Saxons, though it seemed Dean was more accustomed with the myths that surrounded the man rather than his actual work. 

Once upon a time Cas would’ve explained all that to Dean, about how the real life of many saints was usually much more boring than what the fancy death that got them the title suggested, But right here, today, Cas was happy to just let it slip. He was happy to just sit with Dean and have him tell him how he saw the world. Dean’s perspective had always fascinated him, he saw so much Cas couldn’t. He saw all the little things Cas was still learning to see. So instead of a 10am lecture on the Saint Cas simply raised his beer and said, “Sounds like a good reason to drink.” 

“Damn right.” Dean agreed as their bottles made a clink. They sat back, both comfortably wrapped in the silence between them. Cas had started stroking Dean’s hand again, still releasing in the soft smile it created on Dean’s face. 

Suddenly Dean shot up, “May!”

“What?” 

“Sam’s birthday is in May.” He said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. Cas couldn’t help himself, he started laughing. Dean found himself laughing too. Before long the two of them were in stitches, rubbing tears from their flushed faces. “What? What!?” Dean found himself repeating, trying to wring why Cas was laughing from him.

“Nothing, nothing,” Cas waved his hand, “It’s nothing. I don’t know why I’m laughing, it’s not even that funny. I guess it’s just you,” he managed, holding onto his stomach despite knowing it would do nothing for the stitch forming under his ribs. 

“You think I’m funny?”

“Of course I do Dean.” Cas said, finally finding it in himself to breathe. 

“Of course you do.” Dean repeated. His tone was soft and caught Cas’ attention. He found himself falling into the old habit of staring at Dean. There was a soft smile on his face that Cas was sure no one else but him got to see. Well, maybe Sam, but Sam wasn’t here, this smile was all for him. The little crinkles in the corner of Dean’s eyes, the pink flush of his cheeks from laughing too hard, it was all for Cas. 

“You’re beautiful.” Cas whispered. Dean instantly ducked his head.

“And you’re drunk.”

“Don’t people say drunk words are sober thoughts?” 

Dean looked up again, “Maybe.” Quietly he added, “I hope so.” 

Cas put down his beer and took Dean’s hand into both of his. They stared at each other just a little longer before Cas dipped his eyes to kiss where his thumb had just been resting on Dean’s knuckles. “Happy Saint Patrick’s day Dean.” His voice was still quiet. The air felt thick and warm as a blanket on a winter morning and Cas didn’t want to get out of bed. Not when he had Dean right next to him with that stupid glint in his eye and that lopsided smile that Cas was sure meant he was about to get called a sap. 

But Dean didn’t say that, didn’t call him a sap, or a big baby, or a girl, instead he put down his own beer and brought his right hand to rest on Cas’. “Yeah, you too Cas.” 

Cas had never celebrated Saint Patrick’s day before, but as he stared at his hands cradled in Dean’s he wanted nothing more than for it to happen again. Maybe there were other special days in the human calendar he didn’t know about. There was still so much he didn’t know. Once that prospect would’ve worried him, terrified him even, but now he couldn’t find it in him to be scared. Not when he had Dean.

Happiness coursed through his veins and sat snuggly under his skin. There wasn’t much to be said for the month of March but on this particular Wednesday morning he felt as though he was right where he needed to be. No. Right where he wanted to be, he reminded himself, he could have what he wanted now and he would have it no other way. 

It was better than he’d ever imagined. Soft and warm and inviting. It was perfect. He laid another kiss to Dean’s knuckles.

Perfect.


End file.
